


Discover Us Safely Destroyed

by thismagichour



Category: Critical Role (Web Series), Critical Role: Wildemount Campaign (Web Series)
Genre: Dissociation, M/M, Multi, Pining, They all have issues, they figure it out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 07:00:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14688909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thismagichour/pseuds/thismagichour
Summary: Caleb and Nott decide to manipulate the group, just a little, to safeguard their place in the party. Molly is a lot more difficult than either of them anticipated.





	Discover Us Safely Destroyed

**Author's Note:**

> Me: hey, dialogue is your strength, everyone says so!  
> Also me: great, so write a fic that's 80% without dialogue?
> 
> Anyway, here, have this fic, I've agonized over it a lot and I'm thankful that it's done.

Caleb is, above all else, a man with his own best interests at heart. Things are better with Nott, much better than they have been in many years; it follows that things would be even better in a group. Caleb has been many things, but especially, he has always been clever. Though this group is not exactly what he had hoped, Caleb can adjust. The group pays him very little mind, as a whole, and it means that, at first, he gets knocked out. A lot. He does get better. He gets stronger, he gets smarter, he gets faster. But Caleb is clever, and he believes he can do better. A clever man, with his own best interests at heart, concocts a plan.

It is nothing to get Jester and Fjord on his side. To one, he gives money; the other, a lie. He practices both of these things, to himself, silently, many times. _You carry the gold because I cannot carry it all. I am not very good with amounts and money, so you carry it._ That one was basic, a manipulation buried in mostly truth. _I trust you. I do. Please do not tell the others yet. I only trust you._ He tries all variations of this one, but it is difficult to get the word _trust_ to fall truthfully from his lips. He does not trust anyone, is incapable of it, but it is of the utmost importance that it does not ring false when he says it to Fjord. Eventually, though, when it feels just vulnerable enough, he pulls Fjord aside, and Fjord softens like butter.

Yasha seems like she will be very difficult at first, but eventually he sees through her easily enough as well. All it takes is him standing up for her privacy once or twice, before she is grateful enough to him to leave alone. Caleb senses a kindred spirit in her, and all he needs from her is the same feeling. It is too easy.

Beau is a problem for a later time, he is certain. What she needs is more than he’s currently willing to give. He cannot say anything to her that does not end with her prying or accidentally insulting him. It is not for lack of trying - he even tries to push Yasha in her direction, gently, but Yasha is even more awkward than he is. No, he decides, he will just have to hope that her loyalty to Fjord and Jester will carry him, for the moment, because there is a thick layer of scar tissue over the names in his head, and he is not willing to cut himself open quite yet. Beau will have to wait.

That leaves him with Mollymauk. He knows that Nott and Mollymauk do not get on, so he must figure something out. Mollymauk is…complicated. He moves with the confidence of someone who knows how he looks, for both good and evil. He will go from comforting someone one moment to threatening them the next. From charming a person to snarling at them. Caleb must calculate the correct angle. Molly has a convoluted honor system, and is cannier than he lets on, so Caleb must take his time to get this right.

Nott is Nott. That much is simple. He knows there is something she needs from him, she knows there is something he needs from her, and he knows, even though at his worst points he cannot quite believe, that Nott will have his back, out of self-preservation if nothing else. He leaves her be.

  

Nott is, above all things, selfish. She knows that the way she looks divides people - into the world that sees her as a monster to be eradicated, and the rest that see her as small and stupid and something to be protected. She is small, and she may very well be a monster, but she has never been stupid. She can protect herself. The first time she meets Caleb, he turns a piece of copper into iron, and she thinks _oh. This is what I’ve been missing the whole time._ She didn’t know she was a missing a chunk of herself, or, well, she did, but she didn’t expect the answer to be this dirty wizard who cries in his sleep, but the world is a strange place. This adds all sorts of new problems, though, because Caleb Widogast is the best thing she’s ever stolen. A small, selfish monster comes up with an idea.

It starts with Yasha, which is more of an accident, a self preservation instinct even beyond her normal obsession. Yasha is big and terrifying, and Nott wants Yasha to leave her and Caleb alone very badly. Nott spends a whole day thinking of all the things she could steal for her, some buttons, or some flat stones, or maybe a really big diamond, but she has no idea what Yasha might like and the consequences of getting it wrong may be fatal, so it has to be perfect. Finally, despairing, Nott decides on flowers. Simple, to the point, no one can be unhappy about flowers, right? Yasha is hard to read, but Nott thinks that Yasha may have been the slightest bit flattered, at least by the way Molly had teased her about it. The next time Yasha comes back, the first thing she does in a fight is run towards Caleb to punch a rat attacking him, so yes, it was absolutely a success.

Fjord was, well, it was a bit of an accident too, and it leaves her with the sense memory of a friendship she has never experienced as she spilled a bit too much of her plan. _I hope in the future, you can learn to trust me,_ Fjord says, the hypocrite. He wasn’t the one that charmed her but he was the one who kept pushing when he shouldn’t have and left her with this feeling, thinking of putting a bolt through his throat, just for a moment, just for the smallest moment, but no, she had to think of herself, first. It took a bit after that for it to finally come back around to her, a stern talking to while the rest of the group berates her, her making it very clear that her loyalty lies with Caleb, first, foremost, always, she will always choose _her boy_ , and something in Fjord just cracks. He figures it out, at last. She knew he wasn’t completely hopeless.

Jester and Beau she can work with. Jester has already shown to have a weakness for Nott, so Nott plays a little game of improvisation. She always says yes to Jester, with Caleb’s permission, of course, and her and Jester get up to all sorts of fun trouble. Jester seems to love trouble just for the pure joy of it, and while Nott does not have the same affinity for it, people just love Jester wherever she goes, and Nott will go with it, because if people love Jester, and Jester loves Nott, then everything is much easier for her and Caleb both. As for Beau, Beau is wrapped around Jester’s finger, as are most people. Beau sees Jester and Nott’s friendship, and thinks she’s got it all figured out, because Beau, unlike Nott, genuinely thinks she’s smarter than she is. Beau thinks Nott is cute, and Beau sees her as something to be protected, which Nott will let be, because Nott needs to protect Caleb, and by the transitive property of equality, that means that Beau’s protection will cover Caleb too, and that’s all she needs.

She stays up some nights, trying to figure out her next move, and Caleb still cries in his sleep. She crawls into bed with him, doing her best to wipe the tears away with her hateful clawed hands. Some nights he wakes up and smiles at her. She smiles back, even though she knows her teeth are too sharp and crooked for it to be anything but horrible. It makes Caleb smile bigger, anyway, so that’s all that matters. Some nights Caleb doesn’t wake up, and Nott pretends that they’re comforting each other, and she wipes her own face dry.

 

While Caleb ponders Mollymauk, things nearly fall apart with Fjord. The group drags Caleb and Nott into a stupid plan, something that will surely get them all killed, and Caleb did not join these people to get him and Nott executed for treason. When he sees the scroll, though, all of that goes away for a moment. He can forgive all this foolishness, because that scroll must be powerful. That will make this all worth it. As soon as he thinks it, however, the hope burns to ash in front of him, because that is how things go in his life, and he does not know why he thought things would ever be different. There is a sword to his throat, and some dark magic burning towards Nott, and Caleb _hates_. There is a pureness to this emotion that clogs his throat, that causes his lips to twist bitterly, that makes the fire to well up in his chest, to spark at the end of his fingertips, and he could do it, he really could, he has done it before, all it would take is a simple incantation. But that feeling fades as quickly as it came, and leaves only revulsion in its wake. Caleb only hates one thing, and it is not Fjord. It never will be Fjord. He leaves the scroll.

 

Mollymauk is impossible, she decides. She really does try, with him, even pushing aside that he _charmed_ her, because people don’t trust goblins, that’s just how the world works, and that’s what it takes, sometimes. But later, when he spits _you’re not as smart as you think you are_ , it takes all she has to bite back her reply. Caleb is smarter than both of them combined, she doesn’t say, and she is actually much smarter than Molly thinks she is, but it is good to be underestimated, sometimes, when you’re small and selfish and a monster like she is. At least she correctly pinpointed Fjord’s soft spot, that’s something, at least she smoothed over Caleb’s mistake, that’s the least she can do. One thing is clear, though - she doesn’t understand Molly at all. Molly lives in ignorance, is _happy_ to do so, which is something Nott just can’t wrap her head around - what if he was rich? What if someone out there loved him, cared for him, was looking for him? When she offers to help him when he’s ready, he returns with _maybe I was a goblin killer_ and Nott averts her gaze, because that’s what small monsters must do, and she thinks _I would probably like that person better than this one._ No, she knows, Molly is impossible.

 

 _He did not mean for it happen the way it did. He did not mean to be here, with these people, in this place, fighting this monster, but he was all of those things now, and it was not meant to be. And Nott, his best friend, his only friend, she is dying, and he brought her here, with these people, and he cannot stand it, he cannot live knowing that he caused this, and something inside of him_ snaps _. A wire inside his chest connecting him to the ground, connecting him to here, to this moment, tightens, and all of his fear turns to something else. There is heat where his heart should be. He is not brave. Nott is brave, and she may be dead soon. But he will go first. They will die together, or not at all. He, for the first time in his godforsaken life, walks forward._

_He feels a spell form in his hands, but he cannot summon ice, because he is burning, the haze in his vision is red, and as he breathes, he feels it rising in him, a pulse so strong he cannot contain it any longer, and he extends his hand, shaking with the force of it, and the fire explodes out of him. He vaguely hears Nott gasping for air behind him. He tries to turn to look at her, but he is cemented to the ground because in front of him, a creature burns and dies. The flame crackles so powerfully, more powerful than any fire he’s cast in recent memory, and all the light goes out of him as quick as a candle blown out._

_The wire that keeps him attached vanishes entirely, and he floats. He can see himself swaying, but it is not him anymore, not really, he and his body are not so in step with each other, everything exists but a little to the left of center, and there is so much fire. He smells smoke, or rather, his body does, he does not want to be here,_ please make it stop, _and he can hear screaming, he is not sure if it is him or if it is a ghost of someone whose name he cannot think of, names he still wakes with on his lips, who Nott had asked about, once, and then never again. Everything spins, suddenly, sickeningly, and please, he just wants to stop, he did not mean it, he did not mean to be here, he was not supposed to be here,_ they were not supposed to be there, _please. His girl, his Nott, she is fine, he just needs to go to her, but he cannot make his body move, he cannot see, everything is burning, the fire does not end and then he just - goes away._

_The sharp pain as Mollymauk slaps him reconnects him to reality, a bit. He feels sluggish, but it is better than the burning, the fire, it is gone now, and when he moves he is underwater, his legs heavy, his head full of cotton. He wonders if this is how Fjord feels after his dreams, and he would laugh at the thought of him and fierce Fjord having anything in common other than a penchant for lying, but he still cannot move. He dimly registers that he’s being spoken to._

_“Ja,” he says, and the word drips from his lips and he can feel it fall to the floor, flat. He has no idea if that was the right answer or not, but there is no more pain coming, in fact, there is softness, Molly’s lips are pressed like a brand against his forehead, and there is a dull and aching thud in his chest. No one other than Nott has touched him with gentleness like that in he cannot even remember how long, and Nott, bless her, is a little too sharp to be any good at it. He feels the phantom touch of Molly’s lips echo against his skin._

_“Caleb, come on,” Molly says, and Caleb senses time has passed but he cannot be sure how much. He’s…sitting. He is not sure for how long he’s been on the ground. The fire is gone, but it still is inside of him, it will always be inside of him, this magic that he cannot stop, that he does not want to stop, and how can he keep moving when he knows how destructive his own hands can be —_

_“Hey, you alright?” Beau says, as Mollymauk continues talking, he’s saying something that Caleb cannot understand._

_“Ja” Caleb says again, and he watches the words take flight from his lips and keeps right on floating, he did not feel his mouth move, that time, he cannot actually be sure he said that, and Molly keeps plowing through him —_

_“There’s time for that later,” Molly might be saying, but Caleb cannot even really be sure that this is happening, it would not be the first time he rose from a nightmare having thought it was real until he awoke—_

 

“Caleb!” He snaps awake at the sound of his name, he scrabbles backward, or tries to, but Molly’s hands are holding his knees. His eyes tries to focus, grasp the low smoldering of the campfire, the sleeping forms of his companions, and then finally, on Mollymauk, who is kneeling directly in front of him, grasping strongly around his legs. Ah. Molly was on watch.

“What?” Is all he manages, as he sits up fully.

“You were having a nightmare. You’d wake the dead if I let you keep at it,” Molly says lowly. “Or you’d wake Beau, which is worse for both of us.” Caleb huffs, looks down at his hands, can feel the fire there, just beyond his fingers. He’s shaking, he realizes. Molly immediately takes both of Caleb’s hands and presses them together. Caleb stares at Molly’s hands, covering his nearly entirely. The skin there is just as scarred as the rest of him.

“Everything’s alright, now. It’s just us here, no one else. Forget about it, Caleb,” Molly continues, his voice low and steady, like this is something he does all the time. Of course, Caleb does not know anything about him. Maybe he does.

“I cannot forget,” Caleb replies, his throat clicking.

“Sounds horrible,” Molly says, with some amusement. He lets go of Caleb’s hands and cups his face, thumbs gently wiping Caleb’s cheeks. Caleb had not realized he was crying, but he is not surprised.

“Do you have nightmares?” Caleb asks, “Mollymauk?” Molly freezes, his fingers still delicately placed. Molly is silent for a long time, unmoving, and Caleb forces himself to bring his eyes up.

“No,” Molly says, his lips quirking up slightly. He really is a terrible liar.

“I do.” Caleb says, because Caleb is a very good liar, but he prefers honesty when he can. “All the time.” He pulls his hands apart, to show the flame he has set burning there. “Everyone used to tell me what a gift I had, and I have used it for terrible purposes. I have made many mistakes, and I must live with them.”

“Your biggest mistake,” Molly says, his eyes sharp, “is letting your past define your present.” Caleb wants to ask, but knows that Molly will not appreciate it. Caleb snuffs out his hands, abruptly.

“Everything comes so easily to you,” Caleb says, dropping his gaze back down to his knees.

“Not everything,” Molly says.

 

When Nott first met Caleb, she didn’t know that humans could look so small and sad. Even after he had told her that he could speak Common, she wasn’t sure whether to believe it, his accent was so thick and he spoke so little. Nott had never been very talkative, she had no talent for words, and even her own kind didn’t really like her much, so the quiet didn’t bother her. Caleb constantly had a watery look to his eyes, back then, something that made his eyes shine just like the things she liked best.

The first day they met, when the guards had decided to toss her and Caleb together, probably assuming they’d fight, she took one look at the human curled in on himself and knew she couldn’t be scared of him. Most humans were cruel, sneered at her and kicked her, and all Caleb did was flinch away as soon as they made eye contact. She didn’t know human ages very well, admittedly, because they lived for so long, but he must be very young, to look so scared and tired all at the same time.

“It is nice to meet you,” Caleb had said, long after she introduced herself, and he had sent his magic cat on a mission for wire. “I am Caleb Widogast.” He was still curled up in the corner, still making himself as small a target as he could. Nott sat across from him, deliberately giving him space.

“Caleb,” Nott repeated, and it felt right, the way her lips moved around the sound. “The cat is a very good trick.”

“It will be a better one if he can actually get what we need,” Caleb said softly. He still hadn’t met her eyes since the very first time. Nott knew she was horrible to look at, so she couldn’t blame him, but she wished he would anyway.

“It’s still pretty cool,” she said. “Can you do other things too?” She was trying not to sound too eager, but knew she wasn’t pulling it off. She had always loved magic, and it was so rare back home. Caleb’s eyes flickered up to her, once, very quickly, and then back away. There was a very long silence, where Nott realized that he wasn’t going to answer. Maybe she had said something wrong.

“I have not…done magic in a very long time, other than with Frumpkin.” Caleb said eventually.

“Oh,” Nott said, disappointed.

“But I could…” Caleb said, patting his pockets, “they took all of my things. Ah, wait,” and he pulled a single copper piece from the deep lining of his coat. He stared hard at it, and Nott watched as it changed from brown to silver, quick as a blink. The corners of his mouth curved up, just a little, like maybe he was pleased with himself, and he flicked the coin towards her. She looked at him a bit warily, and put the metal to her tongue. Iron.

 _I’m keeping him_ . She thought to whatever god listened to goblins, as she grinned over the coin at him. He barely even winced at her teeth. _I have been alone for so long, and I’m keeping him. I deserve this._

 

When Caleb first met Nott, he thought that she was exactly what he deserved. She flinched back from loud noises, and from sudden movements. She was dirty, an alcoholic, and a thief. She was scared more often than not, and she was so, so clever. He saw so much of himself, in her. A monster for a monster.

That first day they met, when the guards had thrown a goblin into the cell with him, a move he shall never understand, he had experienced such a thrill of terror that it is funny to think about now. She was such a little thing, big ears and big eyes, and certainly he knew how deadly she could be, but still so young. Looking at her, that moment in the cell, he was certain she would simply rip his throat out and be done with it. Naturally, she had not done that. He does not even remember what she had said to him now, or at least what he says when he tells the story (it is a lie, he can never forget anything, it is his blessing turned curse, but it is nice to pretend sometimes).

“You don’t have any wire on you, do you?” she had said, actually.

Since then, she has saved his life upwards of a half dozen times. She has stolen things for him, she has lent him money, she is more family to him now than Caleb has had in more than a dozen years, and Caleb loves her so, so dearly. Caleb had thought that Nott was exactly what he deserved, but knows now that this is a complete disservice to her. She is so much more than what he deserves.

 

Mollymauk is an enigma, but perhaps one that Caleb is beginning to understand, just a little. Molly is a bullshitter, but he is not a very good liar. Caleb watches as he smiles and smirks through the Zone of Truth where the entire group presses him for all of his life details, which are admittedly very few. Caleb notices the hesitation hidden under a thin veneer of smug, watches Molly’s tail, more rigid than it’s ever been, sees the sheen of sweat at his temple. Nott, in an attempt at kindness, presses him, and he snaps, hard, though Caleb thinks maybe Molly does not realize how harsh he is being, how much he is giving away with his response. Molly is a creature that is absolutely terrified, and is desperately telling himself he is not, and Caleb…Caleb gets it. Caleb has no illusions about himself, but Molly lives on illusions about himself. That is fine. Everyone in this group, even steady Fjord, even strong Beau, is just trying to cope in their own way. Molly is simply the most transparent, now that Caleb understands.

“If you’re trying to size someone up,” Molly says, “maybe make it a little less obvious.” Caleb immediately makes his gaze go distant, stare through Molly entirely, instead of directly at him.

“I do not know what you mean,” Caleb says.

“Of course you don’t,” Molly says.

 

Mollymauk is a problem, and one that Nott needs to fix very quickly. She knows that Molly’s conspiring against Caleb. Any amount of downtime, when everyone is chatting, Molly’s eyes will flicker over to him, calculating, lingering. She doesn’t know exactly what Molly has in mind, but she can guess. He’s threatened her and Caleb both, before, so it’s an easy jump to assume that he’s trying to get rid of them. She won’t go. She likes them, Jester mostly, and she isn’t going to be forced out by someone who draws even more attention to the group than she does. So she’s got to get clever, and soon.

“Can I help you with something, Nott?” Mollymauk says, noticing her eyes on him.

“No! I was just admiring your horn jewelry! It’s _very shiny_ ,” she lies smoothly.

“Well, now I know what to keep in a high place, don’t I?” Molly says, leaning over to grin widely at her. Nott really doesn’t like him.

“I don’t steal from the group,” Nott replies sullenly. And she hasn’t. After learning that Caleb didn’t want to go to the Academy, there was nothing she was interested in, anyway.

“Learned your lesson, have you?” Molly says.

“Yes,” she says, baring her teeth into a smile, bringing her eyes up to his, “I have.”

  

Beauregard forces Caleb’s hand eventually, as he thought she would. It will be worth it. He can kill two birds with one stone. He tells Beau and Nott as much as he can carve out of himself. The wound he inflicts pulses with a deep black ache. He can feel the memories running freely back into his bloodstream, toxins sluggishly forcing themselves back towards his heart. It is fine, all of this is worth it, because he is closer to his goal than he has ever been. Afterwards, he feels flayed open and electric - every nerve ending in his body is screaming, along with the voices of — the names he does not think anymore. He keeps Nott close that night, even though her nearness makes him feel raw and vulnerable. She has never felt so far away from him, and he needs her to stay with him now, more than ever.

 

Nott stares into the darkness as Caleb sleeps, the night after Caleb tells her everything. Caleb has cried at night much less since joining the group, but she is not surprised when his sleep is uneasy tonight. She clutches him tightly, and tries to picture Caleb as a boy, before he was broken. Did he laugh easier, she wondered. Did he smile more? He had been in love, he said. Nott cannot even imagine what that was like. Caleb says something in Zemnian, as he dreams, and she gently strokes the nape of his neck. Did his parents know they were being murdered, the night they died? The door wouldn’t open, but there was no reason for them to assume it was on purpose. Did they know what their son had become? Was it better or worse to be dead without knowing that they had sent their boy away and he had been hurt so very badly? Nott thinks about Felderwin, about fifty gold and some buttons and a brass baby bottle, and closes her eyes tightly. She would never send Caleb away. She would never be parted from him. She’s going to be the only person that never lets him down, because that is what he has deserved his whole life and no one has ever been there for him. She loves him, dearly, and she needs him, too. And he needs her. Surely, what she needs from him is a small favor. And if he can’t do it in the end, well, so be it. Nott thinks of her hateful green hands, her overlarge eyes, her pointed teeth, and pictures it all gone away, and being free, _finally_. Caleb begins crying in earnest now, and she hushes him until he settles. She pictures herself free, finally, and then dismantles the fantasy entirely. That isn’t important now.

 

Caleb thinks that maybe he is out of his depth. Caleb has been alone for so long, and Mollymauk is attractive, knows very damn well that he is. Caleb had encouraged the flirtation at first, thinking that this, at last, was his angle, but he has definitely miscalculated somewhere. He is fairly sure that he is not supposed to think about Molly’s rough hands, about the angle of his neck where the ink dips down onto his shoulder, just out of view, or about Molly’s grin when he is purely delighted by something. There is something about Molly that is so simple. He takes joy in the smallest things; Caleb has never been that way. Caleb overthinks everything, and Molly just - does. Molly laughs when Caleb would weep. Molly is free. Caleb is not sure whether he is envious or just hopelessly attracted. It does not matter. Molly flirts like breathing. Caleb forcefully pushes back the newly opened wound in his head that tries to bring up a name he does not say any more. He wonders how Molly’s hands compare to- but it does not matter. Caleb is mistaken, is all, and if he is going to be hurt by it, well, that is how Caleb’s life goes.

 

Jester, Fjord, Beau, Yasha. Convincing all of them of Caleb’s worth, of her own, was so easy. Why does Molly have to be so difficult? They’re trying their hardest, both she and Caleb. Is it possible that the group will side with them, if Molly pushes? Have they proven their worth, their willingness to help, to _try_ , enough? Probably not. She’s a goblin - no one will ever side with her. Caleb is the only person in her entire life that’s on her side. She has to try harder, somehow. Maybe she can steal Jester something really nice. Jester’s the one with the most power in this group; she should spend all of her energy on Jester. She watches Molly and Caleb talking, across the tavern, and drinks.

“Nott!” Jester exclaims, grabbing her hand. “Look at that lady with the pearls around her neck! They’re as big as you are!”

“Hmm? That’s nice,” Nott says into her mug. Across the room, Molly leans into Caleb’s space. She’s proud to see Caleb stand his ground. Molly bares his teeth.

“See, Beau, I told you she wasn’t listening!” Jester says. “What are you looking at, anyway?” Jester cranes her neck, and grins.

“Ah, finally noticed the lovebirds.” Beau says, glancing over her shoulder in the same direction.

“Isn’t it wonderful, Nott?” Jester says, dreamily.

“It’s bullshit, is what it is. It’s like he doesn’t even have to try,” Beau says, turning back to her drink. “Not that I’m bitter or anything.”

“I don’t think Caleb has even noticed, though,” Jester says, “so maybe he should try a little more.”

“I don’t know what either of you are talking about,” Nott says stiffly. She pulls her attention away from where Caleb’s hand is on Molly’s wrist, perhaps trying to keep him from drawing a blade. Nott will have to keep an eye out for that.

“Molly likes Caleb,” Jester singsongs.

“We talking about those two again?” Fjord says, returning to the table with a new round. He doesn’t react when Jester’s fingers touch his, as he passes her her milk, but Nott notices his ears going deep green.

“Yes, it is so romantic,” Jester sighs, wistfully. “I wish someone liked me like Molly likes Caleb.” Fjord subtly chokes on his drink.

“Has he said something to you?” Nott says suspiciously, squinting in the direction of Mollymauk again. Molly still hasn’t stopped smiling, and Caleb’s hand remains on his wrist.

“Nah, but he doesn’t have to. Look at him.” Beau gestures over her shoulder without even looking. Molly throws his head back in laughter at something Caleb says, Nott can tell that Caleb is pleased with himself by the way his lips twitch ever so slightly at the corners. She’s the only one that he gives that look.

“You’re not…jealous, are you, Nott?” Fjord says, knowingly. Nott pries her gaze away from Caleb again.

“What? No! Ew,” Nott says. “If Caleb wants to sleep with Molly, that’s completely his business.”

“Okay then,” Beau says, clearly skeptical. Fjord nods, eyebrows raised in agreement.

“I am not jealous! That is disgusting!” Nott says, loudly, only to immediately bring her voice down when Caleb and Molly glance in her direction. “I’ve told you how I feel about Caleb, so don’t project on me. It’s gross.”

“It would be pretty gross, you guys,” Jester agrees, and Fjord holds up his hands in surrender. Beau shrugs and drinks.

“I didn’t know that Molly felt that way, that’s all,” Nott says, primly, and recalculates.

 

“Caleb,” Nott says, one night when it is just the two of them in their shared room. She is less drunk than she normally is. She needs to be clearheaded for this.

“Yes, liebling,” Caleb says absentmindedly, while he copies over some spell or another, like he does almost every night. Frumpkin is curled up at his feet, and the candle near him is starting to burn low.

“Do you trust Molly?” There is a pause in his quill scratching.

“No, I don’t,” he says, carefully.

“Do you trust me?” Nott says. There is a very long silence. Nott counts her heartbeats as she waits, picks at her claws, plays with her hair. She trusts Caleb with anything. It wasn’t supposed to be a difficult question.

“I-”

“Never mind, forget about it!” Nott says shrilly, not wanting to hear the answer, “Molly likes you! I think if you like him back, you should sleep with him! That’s all!” Nott flips over on the bed, pulls the covers over her head. Caleb does not respond, but she does not hear the quill resume scratching before she finally, fretfully, falls asleep.

 

Molly goes down in a blaze of fire in a stupid mistake. Molly is right up in the face of the salamanders (what a life Caleb leads, where salamanders are trying to kill him), and Caleb cannot reach him. Caleb knows what he is not, and he is not capable of facing off with these creatures. Jester is too preoccupied with Fjord, who is fallen as well, and Caleb knows where her priorities lie. He does not blame her, but he does resent her, just for a moment. Molly is dying, right in front of him, and he is too weak to save him. The creatures are immune to fire, which is the only thing he can summon at his basest self, and there is nothing he can do. Molly is dying, and is it not just Caleb’s fate, to watch everything go up in smoke, just like always. Caleb can feel himself losing hold, can feel his whole self moving just a little to the left, leaving his body behind. _Molly Molly Molly Molly-_

 

Nott, is above all things, selfish. She stays out of a fight when she can, or she stays as far away from it as possible when it’s inevitable. She’s never seen the point of getting right in the face of something that can hit you back. The salamanders are…bad. There’s a lot of fire involved, and she’s worried about Caleb, for obvious reasons. Gods, she’s worried for herself. She takes a nasty swipe to the face from a tail. She staggers backwards, seeing stars, and looks to her companions. Fjord gets surprised by a salamander behind him and stumbles; the creature bites deep into his neck as he goes down. Jester cries and rushes for him. Beau and Yasha are fighting back to back, trying to make a distraction, but there’s only so much they can do. Caleb is holding his diamond in his hand loosely, doesn’t seem to be moving, eyes fixed in front of him, but he seems mostly unharmed. The tail comes whipping around at her head again, but she ducks this time, only to be caught by a claw to her chest instead. She shoots two bolts into the salamander’s shoulder, but the thing hardly seems fazed. She can’t take another hit like that; she has to get out of here. She looks back at Caleb, follows his gaze, to where Molly is—burning. She looks to Caleb again, and dives. The salamander nearly on top of her misses her entirely, and she ignores it as she releases two more bolts, directly into the faces of the creatures attacking Molly’s fallen body.

 

The two salamanders take a bolt through their eyes, and they fall. Caleb’s nearly gone, but he registers Nott’s shining eyes looking up at him, her nose bloodied. She uncaps a healing potion with her teeth, and Caleb goes blank.

“You don’t get to do that,” Molly’s voice cuts through his haze roughly, “you can’t go away right now.” Caleb tries to focus, tries to get back to him, but he’s underwater, everything is sluggish and blurry. He knows, somewhere, that Molly is in front of him, but all he can see is Molly falling to ash and there are screams in his ears, whether it is him or Molly or the voice of someone whose name he does not think of he does not know anymore, and this is exactly what breaking feels like, he wonders if he will have lost another ten years when he resurfaces or if it will be forever this time, what a relief it would be to just go away-

“ **Caleb** ,” Molly says, and there’s a resonance there that Caleb normally only feels when Molly is speaking infernal.

“Mollymauk-” Caleb manages to gasp, reaching for him, and Molly’s hands are warm and bloody on his face, “Molly, Molly, Molly-”

“Stop it now,” Molly says, shaking him firmly. “Nott needs you. I need you. There will be time for it later. But you’ve got to stay with us for a bit.”

“Caleb,” Nott’s rough voice says, and Caleb feels himself forcibly jerked into the present.

“I’m here,” Caleb says.

“Great. Can you make them sleep?” Molly says. His hands are still on Caleb’s face. Caleb cannot look at him, he smells of smoke and ash and Caleb needs to be here right now. Nott has turned and is firing into the fray that Jester is dragging Fjord away from, that Beau and Yasha are deeply entrenched in. Caleb shakes his head minutely.

“I do not have it,” he says.

“Alright, that’s fine,” Molly says gently, “what do you have?”

“Nothing, I have nothing,” Caleb breathes. Molly shakes him gently, once. “I have fire, that is all, I have nothing,” Caleb forces through his teeth. Molly releases his face and smiles with his bloody mouth.

“Well, then,” he says, and draws his scimitars.

“You can barely stand,” Nott says, disapproval coloring her tone, “You’re gonna die going in there.” Her next shot goes wide, barely missing Beau, who raises a hand in exasperation in their direction.

“Done that already, it’d be cliche to do it again,” Molly says. “You still gonna be here when I get back?” Caleb takes a second to realize that Molly’s talking to him. He blinks. Nods.

“We’re not gonna leave the group,” Nott says, sulkily.

“That’s not what I meant, is it, Caleb?” Molly says. He puts one scimitar hastily back in the sheath, wipes the blood from his mouth with his wrist, and then pulls Caleb in. Mollymauk kisses Caleb hard on the mouth, and pulls away before Caleb has even fully figured out what is happening. “Don’t go anywhere,” Molly says in a low voice, before running in to help Yasha bisect a salamander.

“He’s insane,” Nott says.

“He is,” Caleb agrees. Caleb is still firmly attached to the ground when the fight ends.

 

“Oh, Nott, I’m sorry, I don’t have any spells!” Jester says pitifully, touching Nott’s face gently with the tips of her fingers. “Your poor nose!”

“It’s not that bad,” Nott says. She’s pretty sure her nose is broken.

“It looks pretty damn bad,” Beau says.

“Thanks, Beau,” Nott says.

“You look like shit,” Beau says.

“Thanks, Beau,” Nott says.

“Here, Nott, let me help you,” Yasha says. “It’s not much, but maybe it will help your nose.”

“Why?” Nott asks, suspiciously.

“Because I like you,” Yasha says, simply. Nott frowns, but allows Yasha to place her large palm over Nott’s face. Yasha’s right, it isn’t much, but her nose does stop its persistent throb.

“You look slightly less like shit,” Beau says.

“Thanks, Beau,” Nott says.

“I have a healing potion, if you want it, Nott,” Fjord says, freshly healed, still looking a little worse for wear.

“I’m fine,” Nott says, politely.

“You should take it, Nott, you’re still bleeding,” Jester says.

“I don’t want to owe you anything,” Nott says, stiffly.

“Nah, on the house. It’s yours,” Fjord says, digging for the bottle and tossing it to her.

“I think Caleb has one, I can just ask him,” Nott protests, as she deftly catches it.

“Just take the damn potion, already,” Beau drawls. She’s not even looking at Nott, she’s rewrapping the bandages around her knuckles. Nott looks at them all, Beau sitting at Yasha’s feet, way too far into her space, Jester and Fjord unconsciously leaning into each other, Caleb and Molly separate from the group, practically breathing each other’s air. She likes them, she realizes. She wants to stay with these people, and not just for Caleb’s sake, and not even for her sake. Not for the sake of all the work she’s put in making sure they feel obligated to her somehow. She just likes these people, their stupid romances, their flaws.

“Why do you not want to let us help you, Nott?” Yasha says, her low voice hesitant.

“Because she doesn’t believe that we actually like her,” Beau says thickly, tying her bandages off with her teeth.

“Is that true, Nott?” Jester says, distressed, “do you think we don’t like you? Because we like you a lot! You and Caleb both!”

“Of course. You and Caleb are both valuable members of the team. You’ve done a lot.” Fjord says, seriously. Jester immediately elbows him in the ribs.

“Not that that matters! You _belong_ here, with us! Who will I solve crimes with, if you go?” Jester says, her voice wobbling like it does right before she cries.

“We’re not going anywhere!” Nott says, hurriedly. “I like it here! We’re staying with you all!”

“Really?” Jester says, immediately brightening. “Even if Caleb wants to go?”

“Caleb’s not going anywhere,” Beau says, and jerks her head towards Caleb and Molly, who are kissing desperately, completely oblivious to the rest of them. Fjord whistles. Jester catcalls them loudly, while Beau applauds sarcastically. Molly and Caleb pull away from each other, Caleb flushing so hard Nott can see it from where she stands.

“I thought it would never happen,” Yasha remarks, looking at Beau.

“Stranger things, I guess,” Beau says.

“This is great, Nott! This means you’re _never_ getting rid of us!” Jester exclaims, throwing her arms around Nott, completely taking the wind out of her. Nott makes eye contact with Caleb over Jester’s shoulder.

“Of course not,” Nott says. “I don’t want to.” And she finds, small selfish monster that she is, that it’s true.

 

“You still with us, then?” Mollymauk pants. He looks like a strong wind could blow him over. He looks like a hit from _Caleb_ could knock him out. He is caked in blood and soot, there are several tears in his shirt and pants, and it looks like he has been bleeding from his ears.

“I am with you,” Caleb says softly. “You need Jester, you look terrible.”

“It’s fine.” Molly waves him off. “I just need to sit down for a bit.” Caleb, recognizing the dismissal, nods curtly and starts walking towards Nott, who is being fussed over by Jester. He is mostly uninjured from the fight, but he feels loose, like there is air in his joints, making each movement jerky and difficult.

“Caleb,” Molly calls after him. He gestures downwards, and Caleb can see that most of his leg is burnt to a crisp. It is a wonder he is standing on it at all. Caleb swallows heavily, blinks, frowns.

“I will get Jester,” he says, and turns back to the group.

“Just give me a hand, would you?” Molly says, exasperated. Caleb approaches him, hesitant. Molly reaches his arm out, and Caleb slinks under it, so Molly’s arm is around his shoulders. Molly’s heat radiates through Caleb’s thick coat. Molly takes a limping step forward, and Caleb just does his best to keep him upright. Caleb has to turn his head away to avoid the ash that seems to have permeated every inch of Molly’s clothes and hair.

“Stay with me,” Molly warns softly, “it’s just me. Stay here.”

“It is fine,” Caleb says, breathing through his mouth. He shuts his eyes tightly and shakes himself. He is fine. It is fine.

“There’s no fire,” Molly says, “there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“I am not afraid of fire,” Caleb says. “Only of myself.”

“That is… unsettlingly relatable,” Molly says. He takes another step and his leg buckles entirely, and Caleb can do nothing but follow him down to the ground. “Here seems like a good spot,” Molly says, cheerfully. Caleb does not mention how far from the group they are. He sits upright, takes his jacket off. Molly, grimacing, stretches his injured leg out in front of him.

“Are you certain-”

“Caleb,” Molly says, pleasantly, “if you suggest Jester again, I’ll be very irritated.” Caleb keeps his mouth shut. He is useless at medicine, so he cannot offer Molly much of anything, and instead admires the way Molly’s hair is just getting long enough to curl around his ears.

“Caleb,” Molly says again.

“You are saying my name a lot,” Caleb says.

“You’re smart enough to know why,” Molly replies, shifting in closer to Caleb, clearly repressing a grimace as he jostles his leg.

“I would say that you are very irritated with me.” Caleb says, averting his gaze as Molly gets into his space.

“That’s not why,” Molly says, “and I’m fairly certain you know that. You’re very clever.” All Caleb would have to do is lift his chin up, and they would be kissing. The name he does not say rears in his head, and he jerks his head back abruptly.

“Mollymauk,” Caleb says seriously, “you do not want me. This is a bad idea.”

“Don’t tell me what I want,” Molly says. “I know what I want. Now, if you don’t want _me_ , that is a different thing entirely.”

“I was a man, once,” Caleb says, “that was capable of being in love with you.” As soon as he says it, he knows it is not true. As much as he played at being a man, before, he never was one. The voice of the name he does not say laughs, fondly mocking, like it used to, before.

“Fuck him,” Molly says easily, “I don’t care about him. Never have. Probably would hate his guts. I like _you_.”

“You do not know what you are saying.” Caleb says, shortly. “You do not know what I am.”

“Now, what you are and what you think you are, those aren’t the same, are they?” Molly says, grinning at him. “And I told you already that I know what I want. It’s up to you what to do with it. But I won’t wait around all day.” Molly is so close to him Caleb can smell the ash and sweat.

Caleb is, above all else, a man with his own best interests at heart. He does not know if this dance he is doing with Mollymauk is in his best interests. If Molly gets bored, Caleb is in a worse position with the group than he is now. If Molly dies, well, Caleb does not know. Molly is reckless in all the ways Caleb is not, and Caleb is already trying to keep Nott and himself alive, he cannot prioritize another person. Caleb tries to think about Molly returning to the earth that he so recently crawled his way out of and his chest constricts painfully, setting off the throbbing in the open wound in his head. It is probably not in his best interests to get in deeper with Molly than he is already. Molly does not know what Caleb is. When Caleb’s past comes back to haunt him, if it does, _when_ it does, then Molly will shun him at best, and where will he and Nott be then? And Molly has his own demons waiting somewhere out there to upend his life. Caleb has no interest in being on the wrong side of the type of people Molly’s previous life seems to have associated with. No, it is definitely not in his best interests to involve himself with Molly. Caleb breathes, and it aches. He only wants one thing as much as he wants Molly, and he knows that he cannot have both. He has had only one thought, one thing keeping him going, for many years now, and he does not know that he’s ready to give it up. He does not know if he can.

He looks over to Nott, who has given so much to him, and to his companions, who are all smiling easily with her. She deserves so much better than what he has given her. She deserves these people, these friends, she deserves to be happy, more than anyone. And Caleb, well. He does not deserve happiness. But maybe, he can have it for a while. Just for a moment, even. For the first time, Caleb cannot bring himself to act in his own best interest.

“Would you have me?” Caleb says, finally. “Even if I am broken?”

“Caleb,” Molly says, so thick with fondness that Caleb’s breath catches in his throat, “you’re the only one that can’t tell that you’re mending.” Caleb cannot stop himself from pressing forward, catching Molly’s hair in his hands, and kissing him soundly.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So I started writing this fic after Hush. Yeah, that's right, OVER 11 EPISODES AGO, and the purpose of it has changed probably a half dozen times. Most of this fic took off after Nott's revelation about her relationship with Caleb, because I was fascinated at how both of them think they're using the other when actually that's just Feelings, my dudes. It finally came together with Caleb's backstory drop, and I'm actually a little mad I didn't figure it out sooner, because all but the last few sections of this fic were written prior to that, and all my vagueing about Caleb's backstory didn't have to be changed AT ALL.
> 
> The title of this fic comes from a poem by Federico García Lorca, “But hurry, let's entwine ourselves as one, our mouth broken, our soul bitten by love, so time discovers us safely destroyed.” 
> 
>  
> 
> Shoutout to Crunchy for betaing this for me on the fly, he's the light of my life, apple of my eye, and speaking of which, have you read his most recent fic "High In A Blue Sky" because it's incredible and I'm probably going to get the phrase "loving and lovesick" tattooed on my ass. I'm kidding about the tattoo probably but about nothing else.
> 
> Anyway, catch my as of yet untattooed ass on tumblr @calebwidogasts


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